Daddy
by ttfan111robstar1
Summary: Batman intervenes during the events of Mother Mae Eye, and is introduced to a side of his son he never knew existed. Contains infantilism, and preface.
1. Preface

_To my dear readers,_

_For the past seven years you've read my writing, maybe only once, but you have. In that time I have never once felt the need to put a preface in any of my work, but I do feel the need to tell you a bit about this particular piece of writing, which I have been meaning to write for the past ten years, but have only put to paper (so to speak) now._

_For some of my faithful readers, you may have read "Voices", "Little Things", and "Ice". All three are set in the Marvel universe, and deal with the subject of Infantilism. No, I am not an Infantilist myself, but I respect those who are and the lifestyle they choose to lead._

_Many of my stories deal with the subject of Infantilism simply because I love to show the more innocent side of human nature. There is something so different about the way children see the world, and sometimes we forget that In everyday life. Some adults with the ability to put themselves in the mind of a child have a very unique way of seeing things. While seeing the world for what it really is, they also cling to that innocent, hopeful side of their childhood that they did not necessarily experience during that period of their life._

_This is one of the most personal pieces of writing I have ever published, and I want every reader to know that from the get-go this story was written for all of you. I hate not being able to find a story that fits what you imagined, so every time that happened to me, I wrote how I wanted things to play out in the hopes that it would be what someone wanted- even if it's just one person._

_With that in mind, I hope you enjoy the piece that I've written for you._

_Sincerely,_

_Holly_


	2. Spell

Mother was mad at him.

He looked at her, deeply frightened, even though he was sixteen years old.

"Sorry, Mother. I'm sorry." Mother Mae Eye looked at Robin with a ferocious glare.

"Mother doesn't like it when her Robbie-Wobby runs off like that." She chastened.

"I'm sorry." He said, looking down at his shoes. A pie appeared in front of him and he ate it gratefully.

"I love you, Mother." His eyes glowed pink.

Batman skulked in his cave, anxiously hoping his son would contact him somehow. He touched base with Dick every week or so, but he'd heard nothing from the boy the past two weeks. It wasn't uncommon for them to miss a week if one was swamped with work, so when Robin hadn't contacted him the first week, he hadn't thought anything of it. When he hadn't heard anything the second week, he began to worry. Now, he was consumed with the sensation that something was horribly wrong. He tapped into the Tower's security cameras (bought and produced by Bruce Wayne) and was shocked to see his son with his hair combed down. Oh dear Lord. His son was in deep trouble. He called Oracle and Alfred and had them watch over Gotham for a few days.

He had to get to his son.

He was at peace. Incredibly comforted. Mommy was tucking him in to bed, and he was nice and relaxed. Mommy smoothed down his hair like he liked, kissed his head, and said goodnight. He snuggled into his sheets and put his thumb in his mouth. Mommy was here. Nothing could take her away. Little did he know, Daddy was watching- and he wasn't pleased.

When Batman got to the tower, he had no idea what to expect. Mind control, perhaps? Possibly some sort of microchip? These were the ideas he thought of that he deemed absolutely plausible. However, when he arrived to the island which held Titans Tower to see it covered in gingerbread and cotton candy, his mind went into overdrive worrying about what was going on in there. So, like the bat he was, he soared onto the roof and slipped into the ventilation systems with nary a problem nor care. Batman wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming smell of the gingerbread and something else... He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He looked through the slots until, finally, he reached Robin's room. Even with near black lighting and the inconvenience of the ventilation slots, he could see Dick curled on his side with his thumb set firmly in his mouth. Bruce knew well enough to know that Dick had stopped sucking his thumb at the age of ten. He had threatened to bench Robin if Dick didn't stop. After that he'd only done it in times of extremely high stress.

With as much care as ever, he slipped through the vent and went over to his son. Robin, having extremely honed senses, opened his eyes, frightened.

"Mommy?" He asked, scared. Bruce knew he had to baby his son, no matter how much it disgusted him.

"No Dickie, it's Daddy." He said in as sweet a voice as he could. Dick's face relaxed.

"Daddy," he said in a slurred voice, "sweepy." He set his thumb in his mouth and started to suck again.

"I know, Dickie. Go back to sleep. Everything's okay."

"Daddy," he slurred, "I want my paci." The thought of his son having a pacifier made him cringe, but he held himself together. He saw the little soother on his son's nightstand, and reluctantly placed it in Dick's mouth. Dick sighed contentedly, and fell back asleep instantly. Bruce did his best to hold his stomach when he saw the baby bottle next to where the pacifier was.

At this point, Bruce was just hoping fervently that she hadn't put Dick back into diapers.

He snuck down the hall to where he heard a woman humming. He peered around the corner to see a witch baking pies. Behind her, a red haired alien girl snuck down the hall to a room Designated to Raven. Batman kept to the shadows as the red haired girl tried to convince a girl in pigtails and a sunshine-yellow dress that "Mother" was a fake. When she didn't listen, she hit her over the head with a rolling pin. Batman, for a moment, was stunned, but soon realized that the girl was back to normal. He had to do the same for Dick, he saw.

The girl moved onto the other two rooms, but before she or Bruce could get to Dick, the woman attacked. Huge and looming, Batman kept to the shadows and watched as Dick's team battled her. He found them to be competent, so he went to his son.

Dick lay just as he had when Batman had last left him. For a second, he just looked at the peaceful expression Dick had adapted. He felt extremely guilty for having to remove it. As he went to wake his son, a score of memories flashed before his eyes. He remembered his earliest days with Dick, and how he would have given anything to see him look that way. He removed his cowl, knelt down to Dick's eye level, and ran his fingers through his child's hair. Slowly, Dick opened his eyes, and took his pacifier out.

"Daddy?" He asked innocently.

"Hi Dickie." He said, quietly. "It's time to wake up now."

"Daddy, no... I'm tired." He whined.

"I know, but you can take a nap later." He said, apologetically.

"No more, Daddy. I'm tired." He said, putting the pacifier back in his mouth. His eyes briefly landed on the bottle by his bed. He went to grab it, but Bruce took it first. Dick looked at him with eyes that made his heart break. He pulled his pacifier out.

"I want my ba ba." He said.

"You don't need it, Dickie. You're a big boy."

"Daddy, please..." He said, on the verge of crying. Bruce caved, and watched with disgust as his son sucked on the bottle. The witch was going to pay big time. The milk in the bottle was warm, and soon Dick had nearly fallen asleep again. He let the bottle fall to the floor, and put the pacifier in before sleeping again. He turned over onto his side, and Bruce noticed for the first time that Dick was holding a stuffed animal. It was his old stuffed elephant Zitka. Bruce sat there, stunned for a moment. She'd really made his son infantile.

He wondered briefly if Dick was wearing a diaper. If he was, it was something Bruce didn't want to know.

He had to fix this. Now.

His son was sixteen, and was acting like a two year old. There was only so much he could take. He raised a teenager who was more than capable of taking care of himself, not a baby who couldn't live without his bottle, pacifier, and stuffed animal. He hoped- no, prayed that this was all an effect of the mind control.

Batman pulled a batarang from his belt and put his cowl on. With a deep sense of regret, he hit his son over the head.


	3. Truth

Dick bolted up, but didn't cry out- there were tears falling down his cheeks. He looked at his father with tears rushing down his face. He took his pacifier out and looked over his shoulder.

"Dad?" He asked, surprised. Bruce gave a curt nod.

"Why are you... What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Saving you from mind control."

"Mind control? What did I do?"

"You were mentally regressed to the state of a two or three year old." Dick relaxed. So Bruce didn't know his secret... Relief swept through him.

Bruce knew something was up, but decided to ask later.

Dick left to join the rest of the titans in defeating Mother Mae Eye, so Bruce was left to wait. Bruce removed his cowl and sat in the shadows of his son's room and waited patiently for Dick's return.

After the portal closed, the Titans stood around the pie that held Mother Mae Eye inside. After instructing Beast Boy on what to do, he went back to his room to talk to his father. Dick opened the door to see Bruce waiting for him. He shut the door and exhaled.

"Hi Dad."

"Dick." He nodded. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay. A little shook up, maybe, but I'm okay."

"Good. Let's talk."

"About what happened? What do you want to know?"

"Do you remember any of it?"

"No, why?"

"You sucked your thumb, a pacifier, drank out of a baby bottle, and slept with Zitka for the first time in six years." Dick flushed Scarlett. Bruce knew he was keeping something from him.

"What is it, Dick?" The boy tensed. "You know you can tell me anything. I won't judge you." He tried again.

Dick paused, unsure of how to begin. "The things you said I did under the magic... The Pacifier and Bottle... They're mine- by choice, as are the diapers."

Bruce, to his credit, kept a stoic expression.

"How long has this been going on?"

"About a year... Maybe more."

"Do you feel insecure here?"

"No, it's not that, it's just... I feel more like myself. It's an escape from reality. I feel safer that way. It was easier back then... I didn't have two identities, and I didn't have to be so serious all the time." Bruce listened to his son and heard the sincerity in his voice. He understood the feelings his son was having. He might not have channeled his feelings in the same way, but he understood.

Bruce stood up and led Dick to sit on his bed. Rubbing his back, he picked up his son's pacifier and offered it to him. Dick looked surprised, but reluctantly took it and began to suck.

"You called me Daddy for the first time in years. I missed that." He remarked. Dick looked amused. He scooted closer to his father and hugged him. Bruce smoothed his son's hair out, and his son's sucking grew more rhythmic.

"Are you happy like this?" He nodded.

"I support you, Dick. In whatever you decide. This included. If you ever decide to come and visit at the manor, you're welcome to be this way full time if it's what you want. And if you ever want me to be "Daddy" again, I'll do it in a heartbeat."

Dick sat up and looked at his father with shining eyes. "Daddy still love me?"

"Of course I love you, Dickie. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Daddy love baby Dickie?"

"I love all of you, Dick." After a lengthy pause, Dick asked in a very quiet voice, "Daddy take care of baby Dickie?"

The request was so simple, so innocent, that Bruce had to fight the onslaught of emotions that came with it.

"Always." Dick's eyes lit up and he cuddled into his Father. It meant more to him than Bruce could ever know.

"Daddy pway with me?"

"Sure, Dick." The boy smiled from behind his pacifier, and crawled over to get his stuffed elephant. He picked it up and clutched it tight to his chest, nuzzling it softly. Bruce didn't think he'd ever seen his son so tender, but at the same time he'd never looked more himself.

In that moment, Bruce opened his heart to his son in a way he never had before. A gentle, sensitive, loving side was born. This was the Daddy that would take care of his baby son. Bruce went over to his child and gently kissed the crown of his head. Dick looked up at him and giggled, reaching up to his father. Bruce obligingly picked him up and settled him on his hip. Dick cuddled against his father. Bruce rubbed his back in response.

"Are you hungry, Dickie?" He asked. The voice was so sugary sweet that Dick looked up, surprised. He took the pacifier from his mouth.

"I want my ba ba." He said. Bruce grabbed the bottle from the nightstand.

"Do you want Daddy to feed you?" He asked, sweetly. Dick nodded, excited at the prospect of being fed by his father. Bruce sat on Dick's bed and cradled his son in his arms. Dick happily sucked on the nipple, drinking the remaining milk in the bottle. When the milk was gone, Dick whimpered with teary eyes.

Without warning, Dick started to cry. Bruce immediately held him tighter, hushing him in his soothing falsetto. Dick cried into his father's chest, not noticing that his diaper was now wet, only knowing that he was upset. Bruce cooed words of nonsense to his discouraged son.

"What's the matter, Dickie?" He asked. A small whine and whimper was the only answer he got. Dick's hands tightened on his father's suit. He cried harder, but was very careful not to be loud.

Bruce Wayne was a bachelor. He hadn't known fatherhood until he adopted his son. As his son had been eight at the time, he had not had time with Dick as a baby, for which he found himself woefully unprepared. His son was going to give him a lesson on being an infant, and it had come time for him to put what he'd learned to use. Dick had eaten, had his toys, and a good cuddle. It didn't take the world's greatest detective to understand that Dick had likely wet himself. He thought about it for a moment, and wondered if Dick would be ashamed. So far, he hadn't been, but he was going to ask anyways.

"Dickie," Bruce said in his most comforting voice, "Do you need a change?" Dick forgot all his crying as he realized his diaper was cold and clammy. With gasping breaths he nodded, trying to calm himself down. Bruce looked at his son and waited for Dick to point out where the diapers were. Once he did, Bruce took one from the stack and went back to his son, whose violent sobs had become hiccups. He pushed stray hair back from Dick's face and gave him a reassuring smile. Dick was infused with the knowledge that everything was going to be alright. He relaxed as the man he deemed to be his father changed him. He couldn't really bring himself to be embarrassed.

He remembered Bruce bathing him when he was nine years old, talking while he sat in sudsy water. He remembered the excited way he spoke and the soft laughter of his father. Immediately, he relaxed. Before he understood what was happening, the change was over and Daddy was hoisting him onto his hip. Dick whimpered and sniffled as he really took a personal inventory. His stomach hurt so badly he wanted to scream. Acknowledgement of the pain made him cry again. Before Bruce could ask what was wrong, Dick pointed to his stomach. He buried his face in his father's shoulder and cried softly. There were other things, too that upset him, however. He felt immensely guilty for calling someone else "mother"- even if it was under mind control. The shame raced through him like a river. He had failed her. He clung to Bruce tighter. He just wanted somebody to tell him that everything was going to be alright.

Bruce sat on Dick's bed, holding him close to his chest as he hushed him. He could only guess at the memories tormenting his child, and was understandably concerned for him. After a few minutes, Dick had calmed down, and he asked very quietly,

"I come home this weekend?"

Bruce smiled. "Sure, Dick."

The sounds of the other Titans moving and doing things were audible through the door. Bruce was quick to redress Dick. When he finished, he knelt down to Dick's eye level.

"Daddy's going to go now, okay, Dickie?" Tearfully, Dick nodded.

"Bye bye Daddy."

"I'll see you in a few days." He said, before disappearing into the shadows.

After pulling himself together, Dick went out to rejoin his friends, while Bruce began planning a weekend Dick would never forget.


	4. Together

As the weekend drew near, Dick grew more and more excited everyday. Finally, Friday came. With his helmet under one arm, he told his team he was going to visit family over the weekend and asked not to be disturbed. They all gave their well-wishes as Robin prepared to board his R-Cycle. With a screeching of tires, he headed off to Gotham City.

Just before he crossed the city line, he hit a small button under one of the handles of his motorcycle. It transformed into a plain, black cycle- perfectly ordinary in every way. He pushed a button on the chin strap of his helmet, and it too transformed, only enough to cover the "R" insignia on the front of his helmet. In jump City, there was only Robin. In Gotham City, there was only Dick Grayson.

At least, that's what the people knew.

As Dick maneuvered the streets he'd grown up on as a child, and looked up at the buildings he'd perched himself on as Robin, a sense of nostalgia came over him. It was a warm feeling, a reminder that some things were forever, that everything didn't always change. The thought was comforting as he got closer and closer to his childhood home. He had no idea what Bruce was planning- but he was super excited to find out!

At last, he finally arrived.

The gates of Wayne Manor opened to him, as if welcoming him home. Alfred stood just outside the front doors, giving the young master a small smile as he pulled up into the drive. Removing his helmet and placing it on the left handlebar of the bike, he turned to see Bruce's most trusted friend looking at him.

"Welcome home, master Dick." He said, formally. Dick, smiling, hugged the butler, remembering dozens of moments with him in the space of a heartbeat.

"I missed you, Alfred." He murmured into the old man's shoulder. Alfred's smile grew a tiny bit bigger.

"Master Bruce is waiting for you in his study. He requested I tell you to leave your shoes in the foyer, and any technological devices on the table next to the door." Dick nodded.

"Thank you, Alfred."

"Of course, sir."

Dick did as he was told, stripping himself of his shoes and socks in the entrance hall, and leaving his communicator (which he had turned off in jump so that it didn't show him at Wayne Manor), cell phone, and iPod on the table. Going up the mahogany staircase, he turned right into the east wing of the house, before stopping at the second door on the left. Pausing for just a moment, he opened the door to see his father at his desk. The second the door opened, Bruce whirled around in his chair to see his son.

"Daddy!" Came the joyful cry. Dick leapt into his father's waiting lap, and wrapped his arms around his father's neck.

"Hi, Dickie." He said, planting a kiss on his son's forehead. He ran his hands through Dick's hair and felt him relax.

"I miss shu." He said in a high pitched voice.

"I missed you too, son." He said, quietly. "Now, before we do anything else, this weekend has a few rules."

Dick pulled back from his father and looked at him questioningly.

"The first rule is that you are not allowed to walk unless you're going up or down the stairs." Dick nodded. He could do that.

"The second rule is that you are not allowed to go into the bathrooms unless it's bath time." Dick nodded, slipping his thumb into his mouth.

"The third rule is no big boy television. You can watch Disney movies or little kid shows, but nothing else." Dick nodded again.

"Fourth, you may not feed yourself, and may not use full sentences."

"Finally, you need to either cry or come to me or Alfred when you need a change, okay?" Dick nodded. Bruce smiled.

"Good boy. Let's go to your new room, then." He said softly. Dick was confused. New room? When did he get a new room. Bruce led him down the hall to a door right next to his own room. Fishing a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and turned the handle.

Nothing could have prepared Dick for what was on the other side of that door.

It was a nursery, a full blown nursery with a crib, changing table, rocking chair, dresser, and tons of stuffed animals and blankets. Dick's eyes were wide with wonder, and Bruce smiled. It was just the reaction he'd been hoping for.

"Do you want to look around?" He asked. Dick nodded, so Bruce set Dick down to crawl around the room as he pleased. Bruce sat in the rocking chair, which had a tiny bookshelf next to it with some of Dick's favorite childhood stories. His son had wanted this, so by George he was going to have it.

Dick was in heaven. That was the only way to explain it. He plopped down on his diapered butt to stare in awe of everything. After five minutes, Bruce knelt down to him.

"Do you want to get dressed into something more comfortable?" He asked. Dick nodded. Bruce picked up his son and laid him down on the changing table.

"do you need a change?" Bruce asked. Dick shook his head no. Bruce, accordingly, picked out two outfits.

"Which do you want, the overalls or blanket sleeper?" Dick paused, then pointed to the sleeper. Bruce smiled, and began putting the sleeper on his son, before Dick started wriggling, reaching for something across from them. Bruce turned to see the pacifiers on the dresser.

"Okay little one, I'll get it." He brought Dick the red one he usually had and popped it into his mouth. Once the pacifier was in, Dick was still. Bruce zipped up the sleeper and lifted his son into his arms.

"How does that feel?" He asked. Dick giggled, so Bruce assumed he enjoyed it.

"Good. Now you have a choice, you can have playtime or a snack."

Dick thought about it carefully. "Ba ba?" He asked, taking out his pacifier.

"You can have a ba ba if you want."

"Ba ba."

"Okay then." Bruce said. "Do you want to take a friend with you?"

Dick reached backward. "Blankie." He said. Bruce looked at the red blanket he draped over one side of his son's crib, grabbed it, and handed it to him. Dick smiled and nuzzled it against his cheek.

"Pwetty." He said, quietly.

"Yes, it's very pretty, Dickie." With one arm supporting his son, he took a bottle out of their newly acquired bottle warmer. Bruce took his son back to his nursery, and sat in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth while his son drank the bottle in an eager rush. Soon, Dick found it hard to keep his eyes open. Bruce could see that, and acted accordingly, humming softly. Soon, Dick was asleep. Bruce removed the bottle from his mouth and replaced it with his pacifier. He picked his son up and laid him in his crib. He put a blanket over his son and smiled.

It was a good time for a nap.


	5. Snatched

**A/N: Sorry if it's a bit shorter than normal, but I think the next one will be longer!**

Bruce Wayne finished filing papers about half an hour after Dick had fallen asleep. It was the last bit of paperwork he had for the weekend. It was his insurance that nothing was left to do at work. He officially had his weekend free.

Well... As free as a CEO could be.

As he shut the folder and put it away, he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Smiling, he headed back to Dick's room to go check on his son. He opened the door a crack and was pleased to see his son still sleeping. He sat in the rocking chair and watched his son as he went back and forth over and over again. Minutes stretched into an hour, and Bruce still sat there, watching his son. He was amazed at how many little things Dick did that amazed him. It was one of the many joys of parenthood, he realized. He was so consumed with his thoughts that he didn't notice when Dick's eyes opened.

When Dick awoke he was greeted by the sight of a mobile hanging over his head. When he looked and saw the crib bars, he smiled. He was comfortable in his footed sleeper and blankets. He looked to see the red blanket still in his hand, and Zitka just above his head. He reached his arms up, trying to catch one of the looming animals. Unconsciously, he began to giggle, and Bruce was brought out of his thoughts. Smiling, he went over to his son and looked at him in his crib. As soon as he saw his Daddy, Dick immediately reached up for him. Bruce chuckled softly.

"Hi Dickie!" Bruce said, lifting his son into his arms. Dick snuggled into him.

"Daddy." He smiled.

"Did you have a nice nap?" Dick nodded. "Good." Bruce carried his son downstairs to the living room, and settled him on the couch. For a while they sat there in silence.

Silent as the bat he was, Alfred looked upon his young charges with a smile. He was thrilled to see both of his masters so close to each other again. It brought him back to the days when they had been Batman and Robin- the dynamic duo who had always been in perfect sync. He felt a swelling of pride in his chest as he thought of the progress they had made. He, of course, kept it behind a tempered expression.

"Dinner is served." He said, quietly shaking the two boys from their reverie.

Dinner was Chicken Noodle Soup, which they all enjoyed. Bruce fed Dick his soup before eating his own. As he ate, Bruce tried deciding what to do after they finished. After a dessert of chocolate mousse, Bruce finally asked,

"Dickie, what do you want to do?"

Dick paused. A plethora of ideas came to mind, but one stuck with him.

"Movie?"

"Sure, son. What movie do you want?" Dick paused, and thought about it carefully, before saying,

"Dumbo."

At that, Bruce froze. That was the one movie he had never allowed in the house, for fear of it's circus themes upsetting Dick. Now, he supposed, Dick was technically old enough to face that fear.

"Daddy doesn't have that movie, Dickie."

"The video store is just down the street, sir. Perhaps a nice walk would benefit the two of you." Alfred suggested. Dick smiled and clapped his hands. Bruce, rolling his eyes, sighed.

"Alright. Come on, Dickie, let's get you dressed to go out." He said, smiling.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in a white, long sleeved dress shirt and tan khaki pants, Dick was prepared to go out. Bruce took his son's hand and they began walking down the driveway. Bruce had allowed him the privilege of full speech, and he was going to have a good conversation with him.

"Dad, how come you don't go into town more often?" He asked, innocently.

Bruce looked at the sun, which was setting on the city.

"Because sometimes it's not fun to be known everywhere you go. You know a little of that."

"You want to be normal." He said, quietly.

"Don't you?" Asked Bruce.

"Here, I can be. It's the only place I can be." Said Dick. "It's good to know that you I'll always be just Dick."

Bruce smiled.

As they walked toward the video store, which was a block away, they came to a darkish alley where, in the shadows, several minions lie in wait on the orders of their master.

Dick, who was walking on the inside of the sidewalk was suddenly snatched from behind by several robotic men.

Bruce whirled around to try and get his son, but the robots were already gone.

The only thing they left behind was an orange circle with a black "s" inside it.


	6. Plot

From the second he was kidnapped, Dick Grayson knew he had a role to play. He was the son of a billionaire, which entrapped him into the stereotype of a snobby rich kid. He knew the first thing he had to do was disguise his voice. Slade and Robin fought constantly- he had to make his voice different. He was taken back to the lair with cogs, chrome, and dirt. Tied up and tied to a chair, all Dick wanted was to have Slade lean down toward him in a condescending manner, just so he could spit in his face.

Slade didn't know Dick Grayson. He would make his life miserable until he was let go. He would whine, complain, and be a completely pretentious jerk. His plan was formulated, and he was confident it would work.

When he was first presented to Slade, he stuck his nose up in the air and gave an indignant huff.

"Welcome to my lair, Mister Grayson."

"You call this rat infested stink hole a lair? Wait until my father hears about this. He'll eviscerate you, and this cess pool you call a lair."

"That's exactly what I'm counting on." Said Slade with a sneer. Then, walking to the large screen that loomed over the room, he began recording a special message for one Bruce Wayne.

The second Dick was kidnapped, Batman was spurred into action. He found the odd symbol on the ground and sprinted back to the manor.

Bruce called Commissioner Gordon and notified him of the kidnapping. He bolted to the BatCave, taking Alfred with him. His paternal instinct was in overdrive. He would stop at nothing to find his son. Suddenly, a message flashed onto the screen.

He pressed play, and Slade's face filled the screen.

"Good evening, Mister Wayne. I trust it has certainly been an eventful one. You don't need to know anything about me, although I know quite a bit about you. The facet of knowledge about you I find most intriguing, is that your company is working on an antidote to cyanogen chloride, an agent which infiltrates the blood stream and is highly toxic. I want thirty gallons of it delivered to me within the next twenty-four hours, or your precious son will receive the last bit that I have gotten my hands on. I look forward to doing business with you."

The screen went fuzzy.

Batman immediately went to track the location, and found it to be an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Jump City. So, he was the one Robin was obsessed with. For a moment, Batman sat there in silence, thinking about how to make his next move. Although he was a bat who preferred to work alone, he could see the sense in working in tandem with the Titans. After all, they could get to Dick faster.

Sighing, he called the Teen Titans.

When Batman appeared on the Teen Titans screen, Beast Boy nearly fainted.

It was Cyborg who stepped up to speak to him.

"Batman, how can we help you?"

"An enemy of yours is causing trouble in Gotham. Slade has kidnapped Richard Grayson, son of Bruce Wayne and is currently holding him hostage. If Wayne doesn't meet his demands in the next twenty-four hours, his son will be killed. I need your help getting him, because I can't get there for another two hours."

"We'll be there." Cyborg promised. Batman gave a nod.

"These are the coordinates of his hideout. Good luck."

Batman disappeared, leaving only the coordinates on screen.

"Let's go, y'all."

They left.

Richard Grayson was _not_ a patient person. He despised waiting almost as much as he despised Slade, and that was saying something. As he sat in his chair, he started complaining.

"This is taking for-_ever_, and it's boring. This place stinks like a garbage dump, and doesn't look that much better. I hate sitting here and doing nothing, it sucks worse than sitting through one of my father's high class functions. And as for your henchmen, they could all use a good round of soap and water, because they stink worse than your so-called plan. Just you wait until I get out of these ropes, Father will shut you down faster than a computer."

Slade had steam coming out from his ears.

"Quit your whining, boy."

"I am not whining, I am _complaining_. Do you want to _hear_ whining?"

Slade sighed.

In the most annoying voice he could manage, he said, "These ropes are too tight, they're going to chafe, my arms hurt from being like this so long, and I want a glass of water!"

Slade was about to backhand the boy across the face when the Teen Titans burst in and Beast Boy, as a stegosaurus, rammed Slade into the wall.

"Finally!" Commented Dick. While the other Titans continued their assault on Slade and his cronies, Raven let the boy out of his bindings.

"Ugh, thank you, those things chafe like you wouldn't _believe_." Raven Nodded, before going to fight with the others. He walked toward the gaping hole in the wall. Daddy wasn't there. Dick rationalized that- perhaps Batman was coming. He was proven correct when Batman came out of the shadows to personally deliver an array of punches and kicks to his son's greatest enemy. Once he finished, he disappeared into the shadows, and into the limo waiting out back, and changed back into Bruce Wayne. Dick waited for his father by the hole in the wall, but walked over to the titans.

"Thank you for all your help." He said, earnestly. They all smiled a bit.

"You are most welcome!" Starfire said. Suddenly, a black limo pulled up, and Bruce Wayne stepped out. Dick's face split into a grin and he ran to his father.

"Dad!" He yelled, hugging his father. Bruce happily returned the hug, so glad to see his son safe and sound.

The titans watched the heartfelt reunion before heading back home.

As he sat with his son in the limousine, he held him close and whispered,

"Everything is going to be alright now, son. Everything."


	7. Small Steps

As Bruce expected, the media had been in a frenzy ever since the kidnapping hit the news. There was an army of reporters, news anchors, sound guys, and camera men at the gates of Wayne Manor. Alfred was forced to park the limousine in front of the gates. The ocean of media hounds refused to abate. Bruce gritted his teeth, angry at the lack of respect and privacy that his son received. He exited the limo, instructing Dick to say nothing and follow him closely. Bruce Wayne was no stranger to the workings of the press. They were being as respectful as they knew how to be, but they were still out of line. Bruce elbowed his way through the mob that had gathered at his doorstep.

"Mr. Wayne! Care to comment on the return of your son?"

"How is Richard holding up?"

"What do you know about the kidnappers?"

Bruce pushed through the middle of them, stone faced.

"No comment."

Dick hurriedly followed in the steps of his father, hating all the microphones, flashing lights, and reporters shoved in his face. He said nothing to the press and eventually, they parted like the Red Sea.

Finally, they reached the door, and the raging sea of media was behind them.

Dick kicked off his shoes, feeling like a stranger in his own house. He felt disconnected from everything, and sat on the couch, unsure of how to feel. Bruce's hand anchored him and brought him back to reality. He looked up to his father with curious eyes.

Finally, the silence was broken.

"What do you want to do, Dick?" Bruce asked. He knew he had to play this delicately. Dick had been kidnapped by his arch foe and unable to fight back. It had to be somewhat traumatic for him. Dick paused, unsure of what to say.

"I don't know..." He said, quietly.

"Do you want to go down to the cave and work out some of your frustration out?"

"Sure." He said, cracking the first hint of a smile.

They headed down to the BatCave, and Dick worked out for a good hour, angry at what he didn't get to do to Slade. He silently vowed to get back at him at a point later in the week. He stopped when he realized that it wasn't how he wanted to spend the first weekend he'd had with his father in nearly a year. He looked at his father, who sat at the end of a rowing machine, and their eyes connected. Bruce went over to his son, who looked at him innocently.

"Bath?" He asked, quietly. Bruce smiled and nodded.

"Sure, Chum." Bruce lifted his son into his arms and took him into the master bathroom. The water was perfectly heated, and soon began to fill the large tub. Dick sat on the floor, watching the water rise. It was in stark contrast to Slade's lair. The comparison made him more scared than he wanted to admit. Unconsciously, his thumb slipped into his mouth. Bruce smiled as he glanced back at his son. Taking off his own suit jacket, Bruce hung it on the hook behind the door and rolled up the sleeves of his own dress shirt. He undressed his son, added bubble bath to the tub, and waited until it was full to help his son into the warm water.

Dick felt at ease as he was immersed in the hot water. It was just a tad too warm for his liking, but in this case it was a good thing. He imagined all the dirt and grime that he had accumulated during his stay with Slade to be drowning in a boiling ocean of death. No molecule was going to survive.

Bruce gently ran a soapy sponge over his son's back. Dick tensed in response the first second, but then relaxed in an attempt to get used to the still foreign touch. He sat in the bath, trying to make himself push out the memories of captivity under Slade, both in and out of costume. He had to wash him away, get him off of his mind. He just wanted to forget.

Unknowingly, a small whimper escaped him. He didn't notice it, but Bruce did immediately. He began to hum quietly as he finished washing his son. Dick relaxed and set his thumb in his mouth. He almost removed it when it tasted of soap, but quickly found that it didn't really matter to him. As Bruce drained the tub, he wrapped Dick in a fluffy towel and let him dry off before putting him in a fresh diaper. As Dick stared up at the fluorescent lighting, he was reminded that life didn't always have to be dark. Slade could live and plot his life away in the dark, as could Robin, but Dick Grayson was a light in the darkness. He looked at life from an optimistic standpoint and had a cheery way of greeting people. He walked on fresh grass, played the flute, and hummed a happy song on the path of life. Dick Grayson was allowed to be a happy, carefree boy.

He just forgot that sometimes.

He latched onto his father's hip as he was carried to the safe confines of the nursery. For the first time in a long time, he felt absolute security. He realized that the chains of insecurity and unsureness were of his own making. He broke the chains apart and removed the shackles from his feet. For once, he was free. Totally and completely free to be whatever he wanted.

As Bruce laid his son in his crib, he was so happy to see Dick falling asleep. After everything that had happened, he realized that it really was the little things that mattered in the long haul. He planted a kiss on his son's forehead and pulled up the crib bar. He stood for a long moment, watching his son sleep, before flicking off the light, and shutting the door.

Little did he know, an unexpected surprise was taking place- and he wouldn't be able to shield Dick from it.


	8. The League

Between Bruce and Batman, neither were particularly good with people. But, of the two of them, Bruce was better. However, Bruce was not better at seven in the morning after a long night of patrol.

"Master Bruce, the Justice League is here."

Oh crap.

Bruce got dressed haphazardly before going downstairs.

When he opened it, the entire justice league stood before him.

"Good Afternoon, Bruce." Said Clark Kent.

Bruce gave a nod. "Clark."

Bruce looked to Alfred in silent command to remove the highchair. Alfred obeyed.

"What's this about?" he asked.

"Joker." Said Clark. Bruce nodded, and led them inside.

The next two hours passed by in a blur that Bruce couldn't quite comprehend. He wasn't awake enough to argue with them. At some point, their conversation turned toward more neutral topics. Bruce's thoughts soon turned to his son, and he realized he had to get them to leave- and fast.

Before he could react on it, Dick awoke. He instantly sensed it, as if an alarm had gone off in his head.

"I'll be back." He said, quickly.

He went upstairs to find his son wide awake. Smiling, he picked Dick up and set him on the changing table. Dick looked up blearily as Bruce changed him.

"Daddy?" Dick asked, surprised.

"Hmm?"

"Up?"

"No Dickie, Uncle Clark, Auntie Diana, and the rest of the league are downstairs."

He dressed his son quickly.

"Do you want to play in here?"

"I want Daddy pway with me."

"Daddy has friends over, Dickie. You have to wait." He said in a sad voice. Dick's face crumpled. He began to whine softly, and Bruce was quick to start hushing him. When his whines escalated to whimpers, Bruce sat in the rocking chair, singing softly,

"Hush little baby don't say a word.

Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing,

Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring

And if that diamond ring turns brass,

Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass

And if that looking glass gets broke,

Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat

And if that billy goat won't pull,

Papa's gonna buy you a cart and bull

And if that cart and bull fall down,

You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town."

While singing to his son, Bruce didn't realize that the justice league was standing in the doorway. He gathered his strength and stood with his son in his arms, still clinging to his shirt even in sleep. He laid him in the crib as gently as humanly possible, and gave a small peck on the forehead. He raised the crib bar and went to the door to see the League standing there. He continued on, stopping for just one moment to take one last look at his sleeping son.

When Bruce reached the bottom step of the grand staircase, he was bombarded by a barrage of questions and confused looks. Clark, of course, was the first to pipe up.

"What on earth-" He began, but was interrupted by Bruce.

"Allow me to explain." He said. They were silent as he explained the concept.

"I talked to Dick's psychologist who suggested that he may be using this as an escape from the trauma of his parents death. Considering some of the other options he had, this was the safest coping skill. So I looked into it and, deciding Dick could do much worse, jumped on board. It gives him a sense of security, and it gives me a chance to get in on years missed." As he said that last bit, he looked to Flash, who nodded in understanding. He would never get those early years with his nephew that he dreamed of. They all nodded their understanding and agreed to keep the secret.

Bruce decided to take his son downstairs. He had to trust them, and know his trust was well placed. Dick laid in Bruce's lap, tired from the lullaby. He cuddled up against Bruce and blocked out the rest of the world.

Clark Kent was a man of news, and a man of action. Therefore, when there was a situation placed before him where he could not take any action, he was very nonplussed about it. He was pointedly aware that the current situation had to be one of non-action, but one of forced normalcy and seemingly non-judgemental remarks. It was the kind of situation that would have normally made him grind his teeth, but when he saw Dick in that Red footed sleeper cuddling up to his adoptive father, he simply couldn't find a reason to complain.

Diana looked at the situation and saw the predicament in a way that only a woman could. She saw the tenderness between father and son and instantaneously knew that Bruce was (as always) doing the right thing. This bond forged at the time of Dick's adoption, carried and reinforced over the years had been strengthened by this, of that she was sure. She smiled at Dick hiding by burying his face into his father's shoulder. She saw it somewhat as Dick being a drowning man and Bruce being his life raft. He needed his father to fulfill these needs, or else he'd never grow up to be a well adjusted adult. It was a simple, logical process that made complete sense to her.

And then there was Barry.

Barry Allen had taken his own nephew under his wing as Kid Flash. He couldn't help but wonder what he would do if he were in Bruce's situation. Would he cater to his nephew's needs? He liked to think he would have the integrity to say he would, yet the thought lacked conviction. He knew that in reality he would never be asked such a question, so the choice simply didn't matter, but to him it was a sort of internal dilemma. Would have the guts, smarts, and wits to take this challenge on?

It was a question that would haunt him late into the night.

The League talked for a few hours about crimes, villains, and politics. Finally, Clark decided it was time for the league to get back. They shook hands and promised to swing by to see Dick soon.

Bruce, with a sigh, shut the door and leaned against it.

There was no place like being home alone. Well, _almost_ alone.


	9. Sunday

All too soon, the weekend was over. Bruce sighed as he looked at the morning sun streaming through his window. It was Sunday. He supposed one of these days he ought to go to church, but he had always struggled with religion. He found it difficult to put his faith in something he couldn't see. As a man of action, he depended on what he could do and what was in front of him. However, he was not above putting his faith in a God. Every time Dick had been seriously injured, he had found himself praying. It was like throwing a life raft into an ocean, praying to this God he didn't believe in. He had tried bargaining, pleading, and being angry with God. Eventually, Dick always came through, but he still felt God was far off and distant from him. Now, sitting in his bedroom, he found himself thanking God for the opportunity to have a relationship with his son again. Perhaps he would attend church today.

Meanwhile, Dick woke up for the last time that week surrounded by the comforting bars of his crib. Bruce came in shortly after and picked him up. He gently changed his son into a clean diaper, neither one speaking to the other. Bruce changed Dick into his civilian clothes, and had Alfred pack Dick's bag. Dick cuddled into his father, realizing how much he would miss him. He whimpered softly in response, and Bruce held him tighter. He cradled his son in his arms as he rocked back and forth in the rocking chair. Dick sniffled, not saying anything. He wanted so badly to stay with his father in the safety of Wayne Manor, but he rationalized that his team needed him. For now, though, he was being held by one of the people he cared most about, and he lived in the moment.

He knew there weren't going to be many opportunities for this kind of thing to happen, and he had to Make the most out of every moment. He put his arms around Bruce's neck as he was carried to the kitchen. Alfred, as usual, was making breakfast. The sounds of kitchen noise were as familiar to Dick as breathing, and comforted him further. Bruce never let his eyes wander from Dick, vaguely afraid of letting Dick out of his sight. He recognized that he might come off as a bit paranoid, but he was Batman- it was just in his nature.

Alfred placed a platter of blueberry pancakes on the table, along with a bowl of applesauce for Dick. Dick sat in the oversized high chair, grateful that his Father was taking care of him. He was thrilled to be mollycoddled.

Robin, for his entire life, was made to do everything by himself. He was a loner, much like his mentor, Batman. He had never been cared for, and it was what his heart screamed for. He remembered his parents, and the care they gave. When his father cared for him, he felt like his parents were happy for him.

Bruce began the process of spoon feeding his son. He smiled as some of the applesauce dribbled down Dick's chin, and wiped it off with a napkin. Alfred smiled at his two charges, and left to finish packing Dick's bags.

Bruce finished feeding his son just before eight o'clock in the morning. For a little while, the pair sat together on the couch in complete quiet. Neither dared to break the silence, and neither wanted to. They said it all when they said nothing. It was just the way they were.

Finally, it was time for Dick to go.

As Alfred saddled him with the gadgets he'd left behind on Friday, Dick was reminded of the world he left behind. The world of babyhood, dreams, and imagination was going to be pushed aside, and the world of heroism, obsession, and crime was pulled to the forefront. For an instant Dick wanted to throw himself onto the floor in a tantrum because he didn't want to go. However, he promised his friends he'd only be gone for the weekend. He couldn't break that promise. Sadly, he hitched up his motorcycle, and had to say goodbye.

He turned to his father, eyes glistening. A dozen things flitted through his mind. There were so many things he wanted to say, but didn't know how to say them. Bruce, understanding, put a hand on his son's shoulder and planted a kiss on Dick's forehead. Bruce pulled his son in for a hug. Dick gave a longing glance to his father, but mounted himself onto his motorcycle. With a roar of the engine, he pulled out of the driveway of Wayne Manor and sped into the streets of Gotham.

As Dick Grayson sped down the familiar streets, glancing at billboards and towering skyscrapers that made up his home. He glanced at it with longing. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until now. He leaned forward, partway between wanting to leave the city faster and slower all at once. He missed Jump, but Gotham was his home for so much of his life. His family was there. But, he conceded, his team needed him. He reached the outskirts of the city in record time, and was in no man's land shortly after. The unfamiliarity of the scenery was comforting. After another hour, he was beginning to see the outline of Jump city. All at once he clicked the button beneath the left handlebar, and became Robin once more. When he pulled into the titans garage, he was assaulted by a barrage of emotions, on the one hand glad to be home, and on the other missing Gotham already. As he trudged upstairs and unpacked his bags, he was reminded of the friends he had waiting for him. As he finished unpacking, he said a small thank you to God for the weekend he had. He ran downstairs and reunited with his friends, glad to see their faces.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne stepped inside his limousine and smiled.

He was going to church today.


	10. Adjustments

Throughout the week, Dick had to consistently remind himself that he wasn't at the manor anymore. He had to keep the infantile side of himself locked away in an iron cage.

That didn't stop the urges from coming.

A few times he almost started sucking his thumb, but the rubber of his gloves stopped him every time and he faked getting something out of his teeth to cover it.

He constantly longed to be able to suckle on his bottle, but always had to wait until bedtime to have it.

It was only after nightfall that he could express the side of himself he had to constantly hide. He had his bottle, pacifier, and diapers in his nighttime wonderland. He changed himself throughout the day, but that was about it. He wore long pajama pants, but wanted to feel the warm comfort of his footed sleeper.

The one thing that outshone all these things was the rapidly expanding gap in his heart caused by being away from his Father.

For Dick it was absolutely amazing how just a year ago they'd left things on fighting terms, and now they were closer than they ever had been. It was mind blowing.

Occasionally, Dick wondered what would happen if his team knew of his secret life. Would they still treat him the same? Would he be free to express himself? These thoughts wandered through his mind during the nights when insomnia kept him awake no matter how desperate he was for sleep.

Despite his consistent desire for infantile treatment, the one thing that was on his mind just as much was the one thing he obsessed over constantly: Slade.

Ah yes, the mad man himself. Dick doubted that he'd ever have a night of peace until Slade was destroyed. He imagined Bruce felt the same when it came to the Joker. He paced his room during the night, unable to sleep for fear of Slade's next plan.

He tried to remind himself that he was wasting time on worrying over Slade. He had to force the thoughts from his mind. He knew he'd look back on that time in his life someday and feel sorry over all the time he lost.

Keeping that in mind, he tried to forget as often as he could.

He was reminded every day that he was still a teenager, and there was still more to learn. Movie nights, pizza, Friday night dates, video games, and television, just to name a few.

Eventually, the week reached it's peak on Wednesday.

Dick was more cheerful than usual, because tonight he would get to talk to his father.

Sunset couldn't come soon enough for Dick, and at last night fell over Jump City. Robin was unmasked and de-gloved before finally pulling out the shoebox that held the communicator that linked father and son.

Dick, excitedly, pulled out his old communicator and pushed the button on the side. The screen went fuzzy for just a few seconds, before the face of Bruce Wayne filled the screen.

"Daddy!" Dick said in a high voice. They fell into the rhythm of "Daddy and baby" as easily as Batman and Robin were in sync with each other.

"Hi Dickie." Bruce said, falling into his role. He smiled at his son, happy to see him just as he was Sunday. "How are you, buddy?"

"I miss you." It came out as a whining, pitiful sound. Dick's eyes were glassy, and Bruce could tell he was trying not to cry.

"I miss you too, son." He said, earnestly.

"How's Alfie?"

"Good evening, master Dick." Came Alfred's soothing British tone. Bruce turned the tiny camera to the Englishman, and Dick grinned.

"How are you, Alfie?" Dick grinned as Alfred rolled his eyes at the forever loathed nickname.

"Always well, Master Dick."

"Good."

Once again, the camera went on Bruce.

"Are you okay, Dickie?"

"Yes, Daddy. Just tired."

"Have you been sleeping alright?"

"Yes."

Bruce felt the urge to push for more information, but decided to let it go.

"When would you like to come back home?"

"I wanna go, but I don't know when I can..."

"How about next week for Alfred's birthday?"

"Perfect!" He squealed excitedly.

Suddenly, the alarm went off in the BatCave, and Dick nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I have to go." Bruce said, quietly.

"Okay, bye Daddy." Said Dick, sadly.

"Bye bye, Dickie." Said Bruce reluctantly before the screen went black.

Dick sighed as he put the communicator in the shoebox and slid it under the bed. Saddened by his father's sudden departure, Dick gloomily sucked on his pacifier. He wanted more time with his father, of that he was sure. He didn't like Bruce being so far away, but understood why. Gotham city needed Batman just as Jump city needed Robin. Still, Dick couldn't find comfort in the sentiment. Frustrated with his dependency on Bruce, Dick drank his bottle, still feeling downhearted. By the time he finished, he felt only a tad better. As he snuggled under the covers of his bed and pressed his favorite stuffed animal to his chest, Dick attempted to forget everything and just fall asleep, but the nagging, persistent thoughts could not be kept at bay.

Finally, conceding to his emotions, Dick sobbed into his pillows, crying in a way that could only be described as ugly, and only quieting after he was cried out. For a whole after he was hiccuping as he tried to sleep. Once again, sleep was fleeting and unreachable. After his face dried and felt all wooden and breakable, he forsook trying to fall asleep on his own and took a sleeping pill instead. He pictured the smile on his father's face next week, and the stoic comfort of Alfred's proper demeanor. He imagined the bond between them becoming stronger. He wanted Alfred's birthday to be wonderful, and he vowed to make it so.

A smile graced his features as an oozy black sleep finally took hold over him.


	11. Gift

Dick was practically vibrating with excitement over seeing Bruce and Alfred. For the long days after speaking with his father he had anxiously waited for the day of Alfred's birthday to come. He had already been shopping for Alfred's present.  
For the man who had been like a grandfather to him. He'd bought him a silver pocket watch to match his silver tie. Dick wrapped it carefully before putting it In his small overnight bag. He knew he didn't need many clothes.

When the day had finally arrived, Dick had gotten up at sunrise. He had showered, finished packing, and left at 6:30 in the morning. He heard the Early morning squeal of the tires on the asphalt. Happily, he made his way to Gotham City and was thrilled to make it there by nine AM. Tossing aside his helmet, he ran up toward the front doors. Using his key, he unlocked the door, took off his shoes and socks, and sat on the couch in the living room. Finally slipping his thumb into his mouth, he was able to relax. Still tired, he ended up falling asleep on the arm of the couch.

Bruce Wayne was one of the most alert people in the world. He heard the front door open, but was too exhausted to wake up. Another hour passed before he got up and went downstairs.

He was met with an adorable sight.

His son curled up on the end of the couch with his head on the arm of the couch and thumb in his mouth. Grinning, Bruce sat beside his child and was touched when Dick's head ended up in his lap. Gently stroking his son's hair, he looked at the peaceful expression on his boy's face.

When Alfred awoke on his birthday, he knew immediately that it was going to be special. He showered, dressed, and went downstairs to see his two masters on the couch. Smiling, he went into the kitchen and began to make breakfast.

The smell of eggs and bacon roused Dick Grayson from his sleep. He was thrilled to see he was in his father's lap. Giggling, Dick latched onto Bruce, excited for his day with his family.

Bruce picked up his son and took him up to the nursery to get dressed. Dick was thrilled to see the familiar colors of the nursery and was instantly relaxed. Bruce dressed his son quickly and headed back downstairs.

"Happy Birthday, Alfred." He said, setting Dick at the table.

"Happy birthday, Alfie!" Dick said, smiling.

"Thank you, sirs." He said, quietly.

They ate breakfast quietly, in a happy silence.

After breakfast was over, Dick wanted to give Alfred his present.

Alfred raised an eyebrow in surprise at the little tissue wrapped thing.

He was pleasantly surprised to see the gleaming silver of the watch, and smiled at his grandson.

"Thank you, Master Dick. It's lovely."

Dick grinned and hugged him.

Bruce put his hands on his son's shoulders, and they all moved to the living room to spend the day together. 


End file.
